Screaming at Weeds Doesn't Make Them Disappear
It's as if our ancestors have been toiling away, trying to get rid of weeds in the yard and we woke up to more weeds and threw up our arms, fell to our knees (all set to strains of Barber's Adagio for Strings in G minor) and screamed "But WHYYYYYY?" when we saw that more weeds had sprouted up overnight.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.